


The demon inside

by ghostiplier



Category: Antisepticeye - Fandom, Darkiplier - Fandom, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Dark, Dark Mark, Darkiplier - Freeform, Darkiplier Mark Fischbach, Jack - Freeform, M/M, Panic Attacks, Scared Jack, jacksepticeye - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2019-09-01 16:18:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16768600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostiplier/pseuds/ghostiplier
Summary: Jack is invited to Mark's house but something is very wrong.





	1. The text

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don't know what this is but enjoy.

Jack's cellphone rang. His eyes slowly cracked open. Groaning he rubbed his face. Huffing out a tired breath he wondered that maybe moving to LA was a bad idea. I mean, It is a city that never friggin sleeps, or at least none of his friends do. If sleep is for the weak then fuck he was at his weakest. He couldn't make out the caller ID because Jack, for the life of him couldn't find his glasses. Tossing his hand around he felt for them on his bedside table. After a few seconds of blindly rummaging he felt the cool metal as he slid them onto his face. Missed call from Mark. Jack liked mark. Mark was a kind soul. He is almost like the golden retriever of people. But right now, fuck, Jack wanted nothing more than to sleep for 10 hours. Being the nice person he is, Jack picked up his phone dialing back his friend.

The line was silent. Jack tried to say Hello, but the line just crackled. Empty space filled the call. Okay... that was odd. Mark always takes his calls, no matter what timezone he's in. Mark is just that kind of person. Tiredness outweighing his newfound detective role, Jack hung up and his eyes started to shut. His phone beeped. Jack groaned, he needs to remember to turn on airplane mode once in awhile. New text from Mark Fischbach.

"Please come over, there's a situation. Please hurry. Doors open."

Suddenly the tiredness was gone, but the thoughts started. Was Mark in danger? Should he call someone? Jesus. Jack just can't catch a break. Nevertheless, he dragged himself out of his bed, pulled on a shirt and some pants, pet his cat and was out the door.  
\--  
Mark panicked, he started to pace around his bathroom. Looking in the mirror, Mark could make out the drops of sweat running down his face, and a pair of souless black eyes starring back at him. Mark screamed.

_"Who the fuck are you."_ He was unable to move.

**"Mark..."** The voice purred **"you just need to let go a little"** the mirror version of him smirked and inched him closer.

Mark pulled out his phone sending the first person on his messaging list a call for help. Help from what? Mark really didn't know at the point. But sending Jack a text took some of the intense fear out of the situation. Suddenly Mark was struck with visions of murder, blood, and violence. Mark's phone clattered to the floor.

**"Let go of control, you will feel better that way.** " The voice almost comforted him.

_"Y-you're a demon?"_ Mark questioned more than asked.

**"Correct"** it mocked at him. **"I can tell you would rather not deal with your emotions. Murdering people... you liked it Mark. You liked the power of throwing away your humanity. I know you did. Don't worry, I am doing what's best for you by taking control."**

Mark shaking with fear was paralyzed. Suddenly his bathroom started.. well it was transforming, changing into a nightmare world. Mark felt torn apart at the seams. He felt in the middle of two realities, but the dark prevailed. His vision flickered, and a whole new setting was there.

He looked around the room and screamed. The room was soaked with blood. Human bodies were stacked in piles. He felt a strong compulsion walking over to a body. He felt himself stab one of his dead, lifeless, innocent victims. His humanity begged him to stop, but something colder and more twisted made him continue. Looking down at his hands, he was holding a butcher's knife. He felt a pang of guilt. Mark was dirty and disgusting, he hated himself. He felt blood under his fingernails, took in the scent of iron in the air. His skin crawled, but he was struck with another wave of emotion. Knife in hand he stumbled, feeling pure esctasy. The dark side had creeped up on him. It liked this sight. It savored the opportunity to murder innocent people in cold blood. Slowly, Mark could not remember why he had feared this voice, he just felt the rushes of pleasure. It felt natural. 

**"Yes....."** the gruff voice croaked. **_"Mark, relax."_**

He was loosing his humanity... but suddenly it did not matter. It was replaced with something old, and dark. Pleasure coursing through his veins, Mark took a knife from a collection of weapons strewn about the blood soaked floor. Before he realized what he was doing, he started carving an M out of a chest cavity. The fear, pain, and guilt vanished, his weak human emotions of empathy. Relishing the sound and sight before him, he tossed the body aside, taking a moment to hear the cracks echo across the room, listening to the sound of blood escaping the fresh wound he continued. He felt that he could not stop himself until each body was carved- no, marked... with his initial.Taking a second to focus on his masterpiece, the face of his victims finally came into focus. Jack. All of them had the irishman's features. At some level he felt off, but he was too far gone. Steeped in darkness Mark could not feel his humanity in the slightest. This had been training him, _**it**_ had been training him.

**"You know, we're not so different... you and I. I'm glad you that now."** The voice encouraged him.

_"Mark?"_ A familiar Irish voice snapped him back to reality.

But while the scene was gone, hearing that voice, Mark unconsciously felt where the blood had been under his fingernails but felt nothing. Nothing but intoxicating power. Where he had once stood before, a new, more confident monster replaced him.


	2. What the hell.

Juggling the key in his palm Jack tried to push down the rising fears in his chest. Making his way to the doorstep, he paused. Something stopped him. Jack stood right outside Mark's house, and while he understood the importance of haste, Jack felt extremely creeped out. I mean he just recorded an episode of a horror game... so maybe it was just that, but nonetheless he couldn't push forward.

Mark was not an open door person. Jack respected that. But Mark has never on the fly asked him to hang out. He is a meticulous man, and while he does not have the same practices for his sleep routine Mark rarely wakes Jack in the middle of the night when he knows he is trying to sleep. But knowing Mark for years it seemed the more time that passed, the more the American closeted himself to the outside world. Jack didn't even remember the last time they had talked together face to face.

Reaching for the doorknob he knew he had to be brave. Jack needed to shrug off his worries and fears, they were not helping him reach his friend, who was in need of urgent help by the way. He shook his head. Turning the key, the lock clicked and he pushed the door open. Usually lit with LED lights and bright indoor bulbs, Mark's living room looked abandoned. Even worse there was no sign of Chica.

Making his way through the hallway Jack reached out to place his hand on a wall flicking up the lightswitch. Huh, broken? Maybe the bulbs need replacing, seriously what has happened to Mark's place. _You are walking into a trap._ The thought stuck out in his mind, repeating over and over. This whole situation was weird. Jack shook his head once again, running a hand through his hair Jack tried to ground himself as he made his way through the eerie house. 

"Mark?" He called out.

"You might need to do some spring cleaning in here, the place is a mess." He tried to joke. "Fuck, seriously Mark where are you?"

He heard a lock click behind him. Whipping his head around, he realized he couldn't see shit. The house was covered in darkness, he could barely make out the shapes of the furniture but heard a voice clear as day.

"Jack... I lied."

"What the fuck." Jack yelled, partly in disbelief.

Jack tried to look for a light switch. A hand reached out for him brushing his shoulder, lightly trying to hold him back.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Mark's voice taunted him.

It was off, Jack knew his friend. Even if Mark was ignoring and isolating himself, Jack knew him very well. Countless discord calls allowed Jack to learn Mark's voice. The little things, like small inflections, but weirdly it sounded like the pronunciation was wrong. Like he had something blocking his speech. 

"Mark just let go off me sheesh" Jack was annoyed at this point

Finally he felt the lever and flipped it on. This time suprisingly a few bulbs flickered before lighting up the room. He felt his heart speed up and his gut wrentched forward. Mark was inches away from him. Either his friend had damn near had the best special effects makeup on ever or this was not him in the slightest. He had two black slits for eyes. his fingernails were grown, they looked like claws. Then as he grinned Jack's eyes widened. A mouth full of sharp fangs glinted in the light. Fucking hell.

"I did warn you." Mark mocked.

Mark's clawed hand shot out at him, pressing Jack into a wall, he felt his throat tighten. He was choking him. Jack's hands ripped into Mark's skin causing Mark to curse and recoil his hand. Jack was scared out of his mind, but was not going to loose this fight. He took a lamp out off a nearby table, snapping the cord out of the wall and hitting mark across the face. While he was stunned, Jack tied his hands together pushing Mark onto a chair. Jack looked over at his unconscious friend briefly before putting his head in his hands.

"What the hell is going on."


	3. Chapter 3

Mark woke up flinching as he felt icy water run down his neck. He tried to move but he felt his movement restricted metaphorically and physically. He knew wrists felt raw against rope, but he still had no control over what the hell was going on. Suddenly the door swung open and he saw Jack. **Aw,** he heard Dark's voice purr, **he thinks he can save you.** Jack, carrying a knife looking like he is about to kill hi-

"What the fuck did you do with my friend" Jack spat in his face and raised his blade menacingly.

Dark smirked, "Oh he's in here with me, I think he might even like it... Watching"

"Stop it. You're not him. You need to leave him alone!" Jack brought the blade to Dark's throat.

"Ah, ah, ah." Dark tutted. "You hurt me, you damage your poor human you like so much. Mark is apart of me. As I am apart of him.

"Fuck you. You are _not_ him." Jack still mumbled to himself at a whisper. Trying to convince himself more than the demon sitting before him.

Dark ignoring him continued "He _liked it_ Jack. The power, the control."

The demon took a claw and lightly traced the Irish man's tattoo on his apposing hand not currently pinning a knife against his neck.

Jack felt a tingle rise up his spine, and took a step back.

Mark slammed against the mental block in his head screaming to stop it. Touching Jack, Mark was ashamed.

Dark smiled. Noting his body responding to this. "He may be fucking spineless, but with me... I am so much more." 

"I can give you anything you desire Jack."

"Then give me Mark back." A tear glided down Jack's cheek.  
Dark felt his energy slowly giving out to his relentless host. 

"Alright, for now have your Mark back. But this isn't the last time Jack."

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first time writing something on ao3 so let me know if you would like me to continue this.


End file.
